Breaking and Entering, Part 1

Note: This is a revised version of the story originally posted as “The Broker”. It is much the same, only better: some of the extraneous bits removed, a few typos cleaned up, and in general a better pacing. I hope you enjoy it.


A crowded Friday morning train. I am alone. He is with a friend and co-worker. I first noticed him on the platform, on his cell phone. I hear his voice before I look at him but I have a feeling I know what to expect. I’m right. He is young, lean, slick and exuding a confidence and control that is evident in his voice as well as his posture. Self-important and not used to being in anything but privileged and commanding positions.

When we get on the train he stands in the same crowded vestibule as I. When his eyes catch mine, a strange look comes over his face, just for a second, before he looks away. Fear. Recognition. Shock. Desire. Combined in that one short moment they make him look like he might be sick, but he recovers quickly. He resumes his conversation with his friend. And I enjoy watching because it is evident that his mind is not entirely on it, that he is trying to disguise that fact, and that his friend can tell, too, but doesn’t seem to know what has happened. I stare at a fixed point on the window beside his head, gazing out at the passing buildings. Occasionally his eyes flicker toward me and I smile. He looks quickly away.

I have imagined this happening in many different ways, but this is the first time it has occurred: recognition by a regular reader of my erotic blog. And what chance! This one appears to offer a rare opportunity: the chance to bring submission to a man who is working so hard to be on top. But I know he needs it. He craves giving up control for a little while, though I bet he’d never admit that to his friend. Even better! I think I might arrange for his friend to witness it. Why depend on him to tell his friend, words alone, after the fact, over a beer or something. No. We will want an audience, so his friend will have a role to play!

He is gaining his composure again, this incredibly confident young thing, and now, during a lull in his conversation, he meets my eyes directly and smiles. I smile back and look quickly away, as if he has caught me staring. I lower my eyes and look up again. It is all so calculated, and it is working. He seems to think he’s now back in control.

His friend has now caught on to our flirtation. He seems amused. I drop lean-and-slick’s gaze and look at his friend a moment. I tilt my head toward lean-and-slick as if to say to his friend, “Can you believe this guy”? He grins. I smile back.

We are nearing the station and there is some jostling in the vestibule. I allow myself to be pushed over toward these two intriguing young men. We are now all touching shoulders. I turn to lean-and-slick and say, under my breath, “I know you know who I am.” He looks down at me and grins. “Yes, Molly, I know who you are. I’ve been reading you since you began.”

“I hope you’re not in a rush,” I tell him, and now I include his friend in the conversation. “I have plans for you two.” I place one hand on the small of each back and as the doors open I give them each a nudge and then instruct them to follow me as I brush past them, striding ahead of the crowd and up the stairs.

I lead them to a diner across the street. I have decided my own schedule can be rearranged and I want to make sure that I have them on the same page before I lead them anywhere else. I find a table in the back and they join me. We order coffee. Lean-and-slick looks intrigued, excited. His friend looks puzzled. I decide introductions are necessary.

“You’re friend doesn’t know who I am,” I say to Lean-and-slick. I turn to the friend. “I’m Molly and your friend here has been reading my blog. It is an erotic blog. Stories about sex. Naked pictures. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist. He seems intrigued to have met me in the flesh, don’t you think?” I smile coyly.

“Ah, well that explains a lot,” laughs the friend.

I take his hand a moment. Soft skin, strong fingers, manicured hands. “Tell me your name.” He thinks for a minute. “David” he says, and I’m sure he’s lying but that’s okay. I’ll find out his name later. I just need something to call him for now.

“David,” I continue, “I want to show your friend here a few things. It’ll take a few hours, at least. Do you think he has the time?”

We both look at Lean-and-slick now. He’s blushing, but clearly excited. He looks embarrassed, intrigued, and nervous all at once. “And I don’t even know your name yet,” I say, arching an eyebrow at him. “Jay,” he says, without missing a beat, and I suspect he is lying too. But I’ll take care of that later.

I put David’s hand down and take Jay’s. It’s rougher than I expected, given his professional appearance. “Jay, then,” I say. “I want you to call your office and tell them that you’re going to be tied up for the morning. A sudden meeting, or whatever makes sense in your line of work. Tell them you’ll call in around lunch time but won’t be in the office until later.”

He thumbs his phone, barely taking his eyes off of me to scroll through the numbers. I wait until he hits “call” and then add, “And tell them you’ll have David with you.” The two men look at each other quickly. But neither objects. Jay makes the call. It turns out he wasn’t lying about his name, and neither was David. Those appear to be the names they are known by at the office, anyway. I’ll check their ID shortly.

When he is finished the call I take a hand of each and let my “stern look” take over. “You will be mine for the better part of today. There are some things I think Jay needs to experience, some things he wants to learn about himself, and they need to be witnessed. Jay, I will need to know if you have any health conditions I should be aware of, and you will need a safe word. I suggest we use “safe word” as you’re unlikely to call that out accidentally. This is all I’m going to tell you in advance. Are you willing to go forward?”

For a moment, nervousness overtakes intrigue as the dominant emotion on Jay’s face, and I know he must be more afraid than he is letting on, but clearly he’s been wanting something like this for a long time. He tells that he has no illnesses or health conditions. He agrees that “safe word” is the word we’ll use. I nod my agreement and then look to David.

“David, are you interested and willing to be a witness to this event? I will not ask you to participate in any way you don’t want to. What we need most is a witness. However,” I drop my eyes a moment and then look at him again, “there may be moments when you do want to be more directly involved. We can deal with those as they come up. Are you in?”

He laughs and declares his willingness to participate with a grin, looking at his friend as if to say “I have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, but I sure as hell wouldn’t give up a chance to watch you figure your way out of it!”

“Good then.” I smile, sweetly. “Now, let me see your drivers licenses please.” They appear surprised but dig their wallets out of their pockets and produce their ID. I note their names and addresses on a card in my own wallet. I make a quick phone call, leaving a message with a friend, “I’ll be at the gallery and will be home by 4. Call me.” She’ll know that if she doesn’t hear from me by 4 that she needs to investigate. More importantly, these two know that someone is expecting me.

I snap my phone shut and take a long, appraising look at each of them in turn. “Well then, shall we?”

I lead them to a gallery space where a group of us holds sex parties sometimes. It is nondescript from the outside, large and industrial looking on the inside, and with the combination of grunge and high culture being all the rage these days, it is in danger of becoming a trendy place. More importantly, it is well equipped, and empty during the day. I have permission to use it as long as I’m out by five. I have rarely taken advantage of that, but today is turning out to be quite a different kind of day.

It is dark when we walk in and I take advantage of the moment to press Jay against the wall to kiss him. I press my body against his as I pull his head down to me. His lips brush mine tentatively, but I hold his head and open his mouth with mine. He is not much taller than I, perhaps 5’8”, but I can feel the strength in his body as I bend him to me. He yields, but in the same way that flexible steel might yield: slowly, and purposefully.

I switch on only a few of the overhead lights. The two rooms are dim but visible now. The front room is the gallery; the back, the playroom. My two young friends are still standing just inside the vestibule. “Make yourselves at home,” I tell them. “Explore the place. Bathrooms are through that little hallway there. The bar is not stocked until evening, but there is soda and water in the refrigerator. The back room is where we’ll spend most of our time, I’m sure, but feel free to browse the paintings here. I’ll be right back.” I disappear into the ladies’ room to give them a few moments to check in with each other, and to adjust my wardrobe a bit.

I keep a few items of costume and lingerie here for impromptu parties and I strip out of my jeans and turtleneck, my plain old bikinis, and don a black leather corset and sheer black stockings. I put my jeans and turtleneck back on, and pull on some tall leather boots instead of my walking shoes.

When I return to the front room I find them looking a bit more relaxed. They’ve had a moment to confer and they both look eager and ready for some excitement. Jay is leaning against the bar and David is browsing the artwork. I pin Jay’s eyes with mine and take his hand without dropping his gaze. “Come with me.” I lead him by the hand to the playroom. I call over my shoulder to David. “David, please, there’ll be time for paintings later.”

I give them a little tour of the playroom. Half is set aside for BDSM play and the other half is pillows and cushions and couches. I introduce them to some of the equipment.

“Have either of you been in a dungeon before” I ask, in much the same tone of voice I use when asking new students if they’ve ever studied the human body before. They admit to no dungeon experience.

“Ah, well then, you’ll find this interesting. Here we have a bench, perhaps one of the most all-around useful pieces of equipment. You’ll see its padded to make your discomfort as comfortable as possible. You’ll also see that it has many conveniently located D-rings for all manner of … attachment.” I push Jay down on the bench for a moment. The suddenness allows me to lay him flat before he thinks to resist, and lets him feel the possibilities. His legs are splayed, one on either side of the narrow center piece of the bench and I run my hand up his thigh, dragging fingernails as I go. David looks on, smiling at the sudden turn of events. I grab the front of Jay’s shirt and pull him up to sitting again. I kiss him deeply while holding him in place. I feel that same warm-steel yielding that I felt earlier. I am warm and wet with the electricity our connection, and its power makes me feel strong, commanding and very much on top.

I turn to David and point out a large, wooden, X-shaped structure. “And that is a St. Andrew’s cross, very useful for standing bondage, and for holding a target steady – of utmost importance when inflicting a single-tail whipping, but useful for flogging and caning as well.” I make sure to indicate all the chains and leather straps attached to each of the bondage pieces, and to the assorted canes and whips that stand against the wall. David grins as Jay tries to hide the nervousness which is seeping through him despite his best efforts at cockiness. I notice it has not diminished his hard-on though. I do believe his fear is turning him on!

“This kit has my personal toys. These I’m very skilled with.” I open my bag. From within I draw stainless steel dildos that look more like abstract art than like sex toys. I draw heavy solid glass butt plugs in a variety of sizes. I draw my flogger (green suede) and my nipple clamps (clothespin variety, linked with chain). I draw my harness and my personal cock: also green, and only medium sized, but slightly curved. All these things I lay out on a table beside the bench.

I take David’s hand. Together we look at Jay. I look up at David and gesture toward the array of instruments on the table. “David, do you think we’re ready to begin?” The grin on his face is the only answer I need, but he has begun to enjoy his role, and so he speaks. “Oh, Molly, I think we’re very ready to begin.”

(coming soon:~ Part 2Part 3Part 4~)

~ by Molly Montrevoir on June 29, 2008.

4 Responses to “Breaking and Entering, Part 1”

  1. […] Breaking and Entering, Part 2 Part 1 […]

  2. […] and Entering, Part 3 Part 1 – Part […]

  3. […] resist), Ms. Montrevoir has been rewriting a story she wrote previously, and it’s renamed Breaking and Entering.  Uh, way too hot for most of you lightweights.  If you can’t handle steamy, overtly […]

  4. […] and Entering, Part 4 (the end, for now) Part 1 – Part 2 – Part […]

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